Just a Game
by gleeksandtributes
Summary: Single chapter ficlet. AU in which Katniss is 19 at the time of the reaping and Prim and Peeta are chosen as the tributes for District 12. She is forced to watch as they participate in the Hunger Games. Mild violence. Everlark and some Clato.


I stand at the back of the crowd, my mother's hand tightly gripping my own. Our eyes search for my sister, Prim, hoping to catch a glimpse of her golden head amongst the hundreds of others.

My nineteenth birthday fell just a few days before the reaping. I am no longer eligible to become a tribute in the Hunger Games. I should be relieved, but the dread still courses through my veins. I think only of my sister and how if her name should be drawn, I would be powerless to save her.

Effie Trinket totters onto the stage, her ridiculous pink wig perched on her head, and begins her speech- the same as every year. "Welcome, welcome. It is time to select this year's tributes, one courageous young man and woman, for the honour of representing District Twelve in the 77th Annual Hunger Games". I tune out as I have found Prim. She's standing with the rest of the fifteen-year olds, clutching onto the arm of a friend. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the fear from overwhelming me, because I must stay strong for my mother's sake.

It's time. She's saying now that it's time to pick the girl tribute. A thin slip of paper, that's all it takes. I hold my breath as she calls out the name and the world seems to slow as I take in her words. This cannot be happening. But it is. The name she has called is Primrose Everdeen.

The next few hours pass in a blur as I am forced to enter the Justice Building with my mother and say goodbye to my little sister. I watch later as a compulsory recap of the reaping is played on our television. My little sister, so small and slight, looking so much younger than her fifteen years, steps bravely onto the stage blinking back tears. It is only now that I realise I do not know who has been chosen as the male tribute. I watch as Effie Trinket pulls a second slip of paper from another glass ball, and reads the second name. Peeta Mellark.

A vivid memory. Pouring rain, the smell of burning, and the rough bark of a tree against my skin. The boy who saved my life, my mother's and Prim's too, with the simple gesture of tossing me those loaves of burnt bread. I owe him so much, but we have never spoken. Now he may have to kill my sister, and most probably will die himself, and I find myself regretting so much that I never thanked him.

Over the coming weeks I watch. Everything that happens to the tributes from District Twelve is televised and I am forced to sit by as my little sister suffers through training, scoring a mere four from the Gamemakers, and gives a shy and stumbling interview with Caesar Flickerman. I try to encourage my mother by telling her that Prim appeared endearing, but I know in my heart that people won't be falling over themselves to sponsor her. Peeta, on the other hand, appears strong and capable. He, being in my class at school, must be only weeks away from turning nineteen. I guess the odds weren't in his favour when the date of the reaping day was chosen.

After the Games begin, my sister grows weaker and frailer by the day. Eventually she sets up camp in a tree and sits for hours staring into space. I know she doesn't have long left, and even though I know there's nothing I can do to save her, my heart breaks every minute I am forced to watch her starve. After a few days of this, something happens. It's him. Peeta Mellark. He finds her in her tree, and he takes her down into this cave and tries to get her healthy again. He's not in the best shape himself, having taken a pretty serious cut to the leg, but still, he's trying to keep her alive. I see how compassionate he is, and I think he must be thinking of his father, who was always fond of Prim. He must be thinking that his father would be proud to see him trying to save her life. Whatever the reason, I am so grateful to him. But I can't help but think that only one of them can live, and I hope it's Prim.

Peeta's not that great a hunter, having spent all his life in the bakery with more than enough food to go around, but he does his best and manages to catch a rabbit or two for them. Even so, it's clear that she's fading away. I see him ball up his fists in frustration when she refuses to eat and late at night, when she's asleep, he sits with his head in his hands and sighs. My mother and I sit unable to speak, in front of the television, and watch my sister die.

It's morning when he realises she's gone. I see him brush tears away from his eyes as he carries her out of the cave and places her on the ground, his shoulders shaking. The hovercraft comes to take her away, but he's already back in the cave, curled up into a ball, and I feel empty. It's like I'm detached from the whole situation. That's not my sister. It can't be. Any minute now she'll walk through the door with a bucket of milk she's just got from Lady, telling me a story about her day at school.

Prim can't be dead.

But she is. They bring her round to the house in a small wooden box and my mother breaks down in front of the Peacekeepers. They try to calm her down but she screams hysterically and I have to restrain her from hitting out at them. She's shouting, 'My daughter! It's your fault! The Capitol… you killed her! My Primrose… my little girl'. Inside I just want to do the same, but I have to stay strong for her. Not that she deserves my help, after what she put me and Prim through when we were young. We bury her that afternoon. I sing, and my mother cries. Buttercup mews pitifully. I get angry and scream at him- 'She's dead, you stupid cat! She's not coming back!' This only makes me upset and I end up crying angrily into my hands, rocking in a ball on the floor. She's dead.

That evening is compulsory viewing of the Hunger Games for all of District 12, as we have one tribute left in the final three. We have to assemble in the square and I watch as Peeta encounters one of the remaining tributes, a girl from District 2 named Clove who can throw a knife from twenty metres and never misses a target. I find myself holding my breath, but Peeta's better at fighting than I expected. He somehow manages to get Clove in a stranglehold before throwing her down and finally he cuts her throat with one of her own knives. I am still reeling from the shock of seeing Peeta kill somebody when the other tribute, the boy from District 2, comes running through the trees and throws himself down next to Clove's body. He breaks down into tears, yelling 'CLOVE! NO! Don't leave me- don't do this'. I think his name is Cato. It's clear now that he loved her. Suddenly my stomach twists with a new emotion that must be sympathy. Sympathy for this vicious and brutal boy, who has just lost the girl he loved.

That sympathy is short-lived, though, as he looks up with vengeance in his eyes and sees Peeta. This is the final battle, and it's gruesome. After just a few minutes they both have near-fatal injuries, and either could drop to the ground at any moment. In the midst of their struggle Cato stumbles, and it's Peeta's strength that wins out as he snaps Cato's neck. The huge boy rolls forward and his eyes are glassy. It's over. I expect Peeta to celebrate, cheer maybe, but all he does is sit down on the ground with a sad, tired look in his eyes and wait for the hovercraft to arrive. To take him away, and bring him home.

It's almost a week later that Peeta arrives back in District 12. There's a huge welcoming party to meet him at the station and many of the kids from our school go down to cheer and shower him in praises and gifts. I do not go. I know that one day soon we will speak.

I set out a few days later to go hunting. I've got plans to meet Gale in the woods, as it's Sunday. Halfway there I pass the bakery and notice him- Peeta- sitting outside and watching me. I consider walking over but the tears that start to well up in my eyes warn me that it's too soon. I carry on walking until I hear footsteps behind me and he falls into step next to me. We walk in silence for a while until he says in a choked voice. 'I tried to save her, you know. I did it for you.'

I turn, my eyes wide and my breath short. 'For me? Why?' He looks straight into my eyes and says 'Because if I got out of there- if I won- I didn't want you to think badly of me. If I'd just left her to die, I would have never forgiven myself, because I would have lost you too.' I stop walking and stare at my feet. I don't know what to say. 'Katniss, look at me.' I hear him say gently.

I turn my head upwards and he is there, close to me, his blond eyelashes visible in the sunlight. I'm dazed by the sun but I hear him say 'You don't know. You've never known how much you mean to me. I've spent so many years regretting what happened back then. I knew you were in trouble, I should have gone to you and I'm so sorry.' He looks so genuinely upset and angry with himself that I feel a wave of warmth rush through me and I do something that I never would have expected. I reach up and pull him closer to me and I kiss him. His arms fold around me and we stay that way for a while, I'm not sure how long. It feels right.

Maybe there is hope.


End file.
